


Hermione Granger and the Drug Smugglers

by Angelfire2021



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Detectives, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hermione Granger-centric, Mystery, Smut, bound and gagged, gagged, roped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28381662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelfire2021/pseuds/Angelfire2021
Summary: The first of at least three stories where Hermione becomes a young detective trying to solve mystery's which appear. In this one she appears on her own after overhearing a conversation in a tearoom near her house. Our plucky detective witch decides to find out what is going on but finds herself in a bind.Can she find her way to freedom before being sold to the highest bidder?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Since the muggle police didn't want to take her seriously, Hermione knew it was up to her to gather more evidence. With what she'd found out today, combined with tonight's secret mission, the police would find it difficult to ignore her.

She adjusted her brown and cream jumper while looking in the full-length mirror on the back of her locked bedroom door. Her parents were downstairs watching television. Hermione knew they wouldn't knock on her door before going to bed. After a relaxing August Sunday, her mum and dad would likely have an early night before a busy Monday in the surgery.

Whereas Hermione had spent the afternoon on the outskirts of a farm she was going to tonight. A farm which her research showed to be abandoned. But her phone contained photos of three vehicles, including two vans, driving in and out of the property, then something was going on.

It was an overheard conversation in a tearoom which alerted Hermione's suspicions. When the four rough-looking men sat near the window and ordered lunch, their quiet whispers and out-of-place clothes attracted Hermione's attention. She'd been devouring the Sherlock Holmes Mystery collection, having become interested in detective work, hoping to pick up some tips to help Harry. Sherlock might have been a fictional character, but Hermione loved to think mysteries could be solved in such a logical way.

She pulled her jumper down over the top of her jeans and doubled checked she had her pen torch, compass and phone to take more photos. She'd listened to the men in the tearoom, and heard them mutter about drugs and the old Flanagan farm. Her research since had told Hermione the farm had once been owned by an Irish couple until they'd died a few years ago.

Hermione made notes and rushed to the local police station demanding to see a detective, but when one eventually came out after making her wait for three hours, he'd dismissed her with a condescending smile and a pat on the back talking about an overactive imagination, especially when he saw her collection of detective novels.

The detective promised he would take a drive to the farm when he next went by as he forcefully guided the teen out of the station. She decided to take things into her own hands.

Satisfied she had everything she needed, Hermione slipped on her trainers before climbing out of her bedroom window. She closed the window before edging along the narrow stone ledge which took her to the double garage roof. From there, Hermione hopped down onto the old coal bunker her folks used to store the recycling bins.

Jumping down onto the cream patio slabs, Hermione sprinted across the lawn, hoping her parents didn't visit the kitchen. Tall conifer trees kept her hidden from neighbours until she reached a back wall she quickly scrambled over. From there, Hermione used a narrow country lane which led her to the main road. Three hundred yards later she climbed over a wooden style and hurried down the edge of a maise field whose heavy tipped crop swayed in the warm evening breeze.

Whenever she had any doubts about what she was doing, Hermione thought back to the condescending detective and his smarmy smile. She imagined the astonished look on his face when little Hermione Granger brought the perpetrators to justice.

Of course, that would be nothing compared to him finding out she was really a witch who attended Hogwarts.

There were two more vast fields to cross before Hermione reached a small wood she navigated and took her within a few hundred yards of the Flanagan farm. She paused for a minute to gather her breath and observed from a distance. Not able to see anyone, she hurried down beside a dry-stone wall separating the rough track from a wild field. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her breath caught as the buildings loomed into view.

Getting cold feet, Hermione took a deep breath and edged even closer.


	2. The old farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything seems to be going well

It sounded as though men were in an outhouse. Hermione wondered if they used the building as a place to rest and eat while; a break from being up to no good. She made a note of it on her phone before taking a picture. Skirting around the structure, and two other empty ones either side, Hermione found a door leading into the old barn. Surmising any stolen goods were likely kept inside. She pulled on the handle. The door gave a little. Hermione pulled harder, but it remained stubbornly closed.

Glancing around the ever-darkening courtyard, she spotted a thin metal bar. Hermione scampered over to fetch it, her heart pounding in the knowledge she'd be spotted if any of the men left the building just then emerged from their building. After retrieving the bar, she made it back to the door and forced the narrowest point into a gap she'd made. It took three mighty heaves to drag the wooden door open. And three times the door squealed while rubbing against the stone floor.

Hermione winced; holding her breath each time, expecting the terrible noise to be heard. As the sound of men's voices still filled the air, Hermione pressed on. She slipped inside the gap, pulling her pen torch from her pocket. Her phone might have its own spotlight, but Hermione preferred a cheap pen torch she didn't mind getting broken.

Two old cars covered with a tarpaulin stood her in her path. Hermione waited behind them, listening at first, before popping her head up to examine the area for light. Since nothing showed, and there was no noise, she flicked on her torch.

The old barn enclosed an area quarter the size of a football pitch. Three more cars and a van were in view, their shape obscured by dirty grey tarpaulins. One side appeared to have once been used for a workshop, while old farm machinery filled nearly a third of the barn. Hermione's gaze fell on a cleaner section near the main doors furthest from her position. Newly installed work benches looked smooth while wooden crates sat stacked as if ready to ship out.

"Stolen goods," Hermione whispered to herself.

Taking a deep breath, she crawled from behind the cars before creeping between two farm spraying machines encased in mud. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of manure and chemicals; covering her mouth as she squeezed by. A scuffling noise attracted her attention. She flashed her torch to the left.

A rat scurried behind an old green tractor.

"Keep a grip on yourself, girl," Hermione admonished herself before continuing.

She reached the crates and was pleased to find one open. But reaching in and opening the plain cardboard boxes inside only revealed dark brown beans. She lifted a few to her nose.

"Coffee."

Hermione wracked her brains for a while, trying to work out why they would smuggle coffee until she remembered a TV show about customs she'd watched with her parents. She pushed her hands deeper into the boxes and felt something else. Using both hands, Hermione pulled the plastic-wrapped packet out of the box. Shining her torch on it revealed a package about twice the size of her fists.

"Drugs," she whispered, eyeing the white powdery contents. "Lots of drugs." She further summarised, seeing there were ten crates which probably held about eight packages each. Hermione dug down and hauled out another packet before getting out her phone. Taking several photographs of the damning evidence, she felt a satisfying glow, having proved the stupid police officer wrong.

She would go back, pull together her notes and photos, and then find a better police detective to report her findings. She pushed both packets back into the box, not wanting to alert anyone to her snooping. After taking more shots of the crates and workbenches, Hermione slipped her phone into her back jeans pocket and set off back towards the door, and she used it to sneak in.

As she reached the dirty spreaders, overhead lights flooded part of the barn.

A man stood some ten yards away from her.

"And what do you think you're doing missy?"


	3. Trying to flee the barn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Hermione avoid getting captured?

Another goon joined a man in dark brown overalls with his hands in his pockets and wearing jeans and a dirty blue T-shirt.

"I've come to look at the cars," Hermione said, quickly thinking up an excuse. "I heard there might be some barn finds here."

"Barn finds?" The overall-wearing man said.

"You know, old cars abandoned in barns which are worth a fortune." It was something else she'd seen watching TV with her parents.

"I never thought to look." Jeans man looked towards the tarpaulin-covered cars with interest.

"But you're a girl."

"Well spotted," realising she wasn't in immediate danger, and might just be able to talk her way out of the sticky situation, Hermione maintained a haughty tone.

"What do girls know about cars?"

"Some girls, like me, know a lot about cars," Hermione lied, placing her hands on her hips.

"This is private property." The man stepped towards her while his companion moved towards the cars, lifting the canvas off the nearest.

"I thought the place was abandoned. Why are you here?" She instantly regretted the question.

"None of your business."

"Any of these worth much then?" The jeans dressed man peered at another vehicle.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said. "I was taking some photos to look them up online."

"Let's have a look."

"At what?" Hermione said, getting a sinking feeling.

"At the photo's you've taken. Save us going through them all."

"I think I should just go." Hermione edged away from the overall wearing man.

He stepped towards her. "Let's have a look at those photo's then you can be on your way."

Hermione bolted. Only knowing the door she'd entered was open and clear beyond, she headed for it, dancing out of reach of the first man. Though slow to react, jeans man darted between the cars, and on spotting her intended escape route, cut her off.

Hermione swivelled on her heels and ran towards the main doors at the front.

"Someone stop her."

Responding to the shout, three more men spilled from the room built to the side of the barn, and on seeing the fleeing teen, chased after her.

Pumping her legs hard, Hermione thought she might make the set of doors built next to a garage-style drop-down door before a nimble six foot four man slammed against the metal exit in front of her. Unable to arrest her momentum, Hermione thudded into him. She tried to push away, but his hand gripped the back of her jumper.

Hermione drove her knee into his groin.

The man yelped and bent double; only he still blocked the door.

She tried to haul him out of the way, and a more rotund bald man closed in. Hermione rushed by the crates, looking for another way out. The doubled over goon yelled at them to catch her. Spotting another door opposite the one she'd used to enter the bard, Hermione drove hard towards it, pushing her way through abandoned junk, flipping over a rusty wheelbarrow to slow down her pursuers.

The door was locked.

"Dammit," she yelled, yanking futilely on the handle and throwing herself against door. The men closed in, cutting off routes of escape. Hermione gave up on the door, instead, grabbing a garden hoe cast off among other tools, and charged towards the nearest goon. The man sported a startled look as he saw a bushy-haired teen with a fierce look thrust the rusty implement towards his stomach. The man leapt out of the way. But as Hermione tried to pass by, he stuck out a foot which brought her crashing to the ground. On the way down to the floor, her head knocked against the side of a car. Bright lights danced in her vision.

Hermione groaned and turned onto her back. The faces of three goons stared back.

Another appeared, and all four men scooped the teen off the floor.

Hermione knew she was in big trouble.


	4. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bottom bared and lashed with leather, Hermione refuses to answer their questions.

Still half-dazed, Hermione found herself dragged across the barn towards the crates where the goons dumped her.

"She's not disturbed anything, boss."

"Maybe she was telling the truth."

"Then why not just show us the phone?"

"Good point."

Holding her head, Hermione barely heard the goons' talk. She tried to blink away the stars.

"What's the code?" The tall man she'd struck in the balls lifted her head with one hand while holding her phone in the other.

"That's mine." She reached out to grab it, but the tall man yanked her back by the hair, sending bolts of pain through her head.

"Give me the code, and then you can be on your way," the man said. "Don't make this hard on yourself."

"Leave me alone, you brutes."

"You're the one who came snooping around." The tall man shrugged.

"Is it a fingerprint one, boss?" Baldy man said. "We could always chop one off."

"A good idea," the boss man nodded.

"Or we could just put her finger on it," the goon in the overalls said.

"Another good idea, Eric," the boss chuckled.

"But not as much fun," Baldy man pointed out. The rest of the group laughed, and their nonchalance at the idea of chopping of a finger alarmed Hermione. If she wasn't in enough trouble now, she'd be in even more when they saw the pictures of the drugs on her phone. What would they do with her?

Taking a deep breath, Hermione shook aside the pain and using her last ounces of energy burst from her seated position. The five men stood around her, and she hoped she could break their little circle, then the coast to the exit would be clear.

While her surge of motion caught the goons by surprise, T-shirt and jeans man stood far enough back to react and lunge after the teen. He only brushed her shoulder, but the movement knocked Hermione off balance, and she tumbled to the floor once again.

"Secure her to the bench," the boss said.

"She's got a lot of spunk, this one," T-shirt man said.

"I'd put some spunk into the little bitch." Baldy grabbed his groin.

The others laughed, and T-shirt and overalls dragged Hermione to a narrow wooden bench, throwing her over until her waist lay on top with arms and legs hanging down either side. T-shirt grabbed a length of rope before wrapping it around Hermione's right hand and the bench's base.

Still dazed from another tumble, it took Hermione so long to realise what was happening, both arms were secured before she could react. She tried pulling her hands free.

"Now, are you going to tell us the code or do I have to belt it out of you?"

"Let me go, or you'll be in big trouble with the police," Hermione shouted as she tugged on the restraints.

The men laughed.

"What police?" the boss said, grinning as he bent down to talk to Hermione.

"When they find out I'm missing."

"Well, we'll be finished by then," the boss said. "Long gone. Eric do the honours and relieve this young lady of her belt."

"Yes, boss." The T-shirted man named Eric said as he stepped up to the prone teen. Hermione felt his hand slide up her jeans before roaming between her and the bench until he reached the belt buckle. She kicked back with her leg, and though surprised at first, Eric reacted by pinning her thighs between his legs while his arms reached around and slid out her brown leather belt. I think we need these down to keep her under control." Before anyone could say anything, Eric hauled Hermione's blue jeans down to her knees. She felt the cold air on her thighs and gasped with shock as the men admired a firm round behind encased in yellow panties.

"A good idea," the boss man took the leather belt from Eric and folded it in two. "The code?"

"This is indecent…" Hermione got out before the leather slapped across the centre of her bottom. After a brief pause, a stinging pain caused her to yelp.

"No, young lady, this is indecent."

While Hermione struggled to cope with her burning behind, the boss stepped forward and grabbed her panties' waistband. With one swift tug, they too joined her jeans.

"Stop that immediately, you horrible man." Hermione shrieked, wriggling her bottom and thighs as if trying to get them to ride back up again.

"Code?"

"When I tell the police…"

Once again, her words were cut short by a devastating leathery thunderclap as the boss struck her just above the first blow. A red welt erupted across her lily-white behind. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of crying.

"Code?"

"I won't…"

WHACK!

The leather sliced across her sit spots, the pain proved excruciating. A yelp replacing her words.

"Code?"

Hermione gasped for breath

WHACK!

"Please stop it."

"The code?"

WHACK!

The boss didn't even give her time to reply before slapping Hermione's sit spots again and making the girl wriggle and squeal delightfully for the appreciative audience.

Hermione choked back a sob, desperate to reach back and rub her poor behind, and toyed with the idea of giving up the code. But what would they do to her when they realised she had taken pictures of the drugs? She envisioned her body found in the nearby woods by an early morning walker and remained silent.

"It's my phone and its private." Hermione tried to put on a commanding voice. If only she had her wand, then she'd have shown them, however, forbidden it was for her to spell cast. She tried to think of spells she might manage without her wand, but the stinging pain afflicting her backside made it impossible to focus. "Stop being indecent."

"Maybe she's got some nudes on there," Baldy said. "I'd like to see them."

"You're not seeing anything." Hermione squealed as the boss lashed her bottom again. She hoped if they thought she was protecting nude images; they might accept she was harmless and let her go.

"Then if that's all it is, give us the code, and then you can leave," Eric said.

"I'm not letting you dirty perverts see them," Hermione yelled.

WHACK!

"Ouch!" But to her relief, the boss laid the belt over the end of the bench they secured her to.

"I'll leave her to think about it while we load these crates," the boss said. "Damon, bring the white van around,"

"Yes, sir," the overall dressed man replied.

"What about bare arse here?" Eric patted Hermione's bottom, which felt as humiliating as being ogled and belted.

"She'd not going anywhere for a bit."

"Please let me go," Hermione begged.

"You going to tell me the code?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Then I ain't letting you go."


	5. An escape attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bare bottom and an escape attempt. Our Hermione doesn't want to be trussed by muggle goons

After a flurry of lewd comments about her position and nude backside, Hermione heard the men's footsteps move around the barn. For a few moments, she felt sorry for herself, allowing a tear to drip onto the concrete floor of the barn.

"Pull yourself together," she admonished herself. "You've been in worse pickles." Though admittedly, there'd always been magic to help her out of those scrapes.

Hermione tried the bonds again. While the ropes still held her in place, all the wriggled and squirming she'd done during the belting had seen her left hand nearly work its way free. Suddenly faced with the prospect of freedom, Hermione tugged at the bond before calming her thoughts and gently twisting her wrist as she pulled upwards, feeling the bonds give millimetre by millimetre.

Then the hand broke free.

Hermione paused for a moment while two goons gathered up some crates and hauled them outside. Terry opened the garage-style door, allowing cool evening air to waft around her bare cheeks and provide some pleasant cooling. The coast seeming clear, she reached across with her free hand, digging fingers into the knots to loosen them enough so her left hand could work itself free. A few minutes later and the rope puddle onto the floor.

While desperate to take the weight off her waist and escape, Hermione took a few moments to take stock. She couldn't see what the men were doing by the van, but with the door open only ten metres from her, it was a chance to escape.

"Push off the bench, pull your clothes up and then run for it." Hermione went through the steps in her head, visualising herself each moment as if casting a spell.

"Go!" she commanded to herself, and grabbing the side of the bench, pushed herself up and over, falling in a heap due to her leg restraints. She hauled her jeans and panties up until she could stand and pull them further.

"Hey, she's getting away," Damon shouted as he returned for more crates.

With no time to do up her buttons, Hermione fled towards the door, slipping by a startled Damon and baldy man.

"Stop her then," the boss screamed from inside the barn as Hermione ran by the white van and sought freedom. Another smaller silver van stood in her way, but she ran around it clutching the top of her jeans to prevent them from falling. Straight across the rough track opposite, a wooden style would allow her to navigate a barbed wire-topped fence and be into the fields. Another dash into the woods could well be enough to allow Hermione to reach freedom.

"Catch the stupid bitch," the boss screamed again.

Hermione stole a glance over her shoulder to see three goons in pursuit. She cursed her jeans for being too loose without a belt and wished she could summon a broomstick to fly away. Thankful for her daily runs, Hermione reached the style and jumped onto the top step. She needed both hands to balance, and just at the wrong moment as she went to stretch over the wooden top of the style, her jeans snagged, causing them to fall mid-thigh. She spilled forward headfirst, finding herself almost in the same position as she'd been over the bench.

"Got you." Damon grabbed the bottom of her jeans.

Hermione reached out and took hold of the style's base, feeling her jeans slide to her knees. Realising she couldn't both escape and keep her trousers, she valiantly kicked them off, losing both trainers, until she rolled free onto the field on the other side.

She left Damon holding an empty pair of blue jeans.

"I'll get her," Eric said and leapt over the fence before sprinting across the grassy field.

Sensing the pursuit, Hermione ran as fast as she could, her thin socks scant protection against any sharp stones she stood on. With no time to pick her spot, she sprinted towards the trees in the ever-darkening evening. Confident she could lose the goon in the woods.

But as she neared, Hermione for the first time noticed another fence topped with wire. She searched desperately for a style, but none came into view.

"Oh, Hagrid's beard," she screamed before deciding to scale the fence.

With a final burst of speed, Hermione approached the five-foot wire fence where a concrete post held it upright. She stepped onto one of the wire squares, wincing as it bit into her feet. The top of the post provided enough purchase for her to grab onto and haul herself up before she swung her leg over the barbed wire that topped the fence to dissuade anyone trying to cross.

"Gotcha."

Hermione had just straddled the barbed wire when Eric grabbed her by the shoulders, leaving her in a very precarious position. If she struggled too much, she would be cut to shreds by the sharp spikes of wire. If she didn't struggle, they'd have her.

"I guess you need a leg up," Eric chuckled, and taking a handful of her already sore bottom, lifted the teen off the fence. Once safe, Hermione lashed out with her sock covered feet, only to strike the knees of her opponent and did him no harm.

As Eric tried to get the bushy-haired witch under control, Damon joined him and clamped her feet together, allowing them to control her during the journey back to the barn despite her violent struggles and screams.

At the style, a third goon made sure she couldn't get away.

"Get off me, you louts!" Hermione screamed, wriggling and bucking as much as she could in an effort to escape while the horrible muggles manhandled her.

"You're only making things worse," Damon said as they crossed the courtyard, taking her back into the barn.

"Can't you quieten her down?" the boss complained.

"If I put my hand near that face, and this wild cat will probably bite me," Damon complained, and the others nodded.

"Right young lady," the boss lifted Hermione's head by her hair, pushing his face close enough so she could smell his rancid breath. "No messing now. Give us that code or I'll beat you until you talk."

"Leave me alone. People will come for me."

"Get her back over the bench and tie her properly. Arms and feet."

"Yes boss," Eric said as the three goons deposited her over the bench. Once again, Hermione found herself looking at concrete while her hair flopped onto the dirty floor. The goons reused the ropes that previously bound her arms.

"Knickers down again, boss?" Baldy man said.

"Don't you dare, you horrible muggles." Hermione screeched.

"Horrible, what?" the boss said.

"You're all mean horrid men who should be in prison. Help! Somebody, Help!" Just in case any stray dog walker happened to be passing by, or there were some decent people near, Hermione did the only thing left she could think of, and screamed like a little girl.

"Right, that does it," the boss said as he moved to her pantie covered backside. Once more, Hermione felt her bottom bared as the cruel man whipped her underwear down to her ankles, but this time he tore them from her legs. "Tie off those ankles." He commanded as he moved around to the front of the bench.

"You perverted cave troll," Hermione squealed. Two goons grabbed her ankles and started securing them two feet apart so she could no longer clamp her thighs together to maintain any decency.

"You most disgusting of all muggles…hmmph."

Any further words were stifled by warm cloth shoved into her mouth. To her horror, Hermione released it was her yellow panties. She tried spitting them out, but the boss had pushed them in real good.

"The next word I want to hear out of your mouth is the code." The boss pressed up against her face again, having yanked her head up using her hair. Hermione wanted to choke, trying to force herself to be calm and breathe through her nose. But that meant breathing in his sour milk breath.

The boss stepped back, grabbed her brown belt and positioned himself near her naked backside and legs. Damon had lewdly pulled down her jumper so much of her stomach and back was also on display to the five leering men. Hermione hated to imagine the indecent show those stood directly behind her were getting.

"A half dozen to get your attention." The boss raised his arm and swung.

Another slice of fiery agony blasted across Hermione's cute behind, but there was nothing she could do about it other than scream into her gag.

A second, third and fourth belt stroke slapped against different parts of her bottom as the boss expertly delivered his punishment. Between her stretched legs, Hermione saw the other men watching as boiling red welts erupted on the prettily presented backside.

The boss waited longer on the fifth and sixth strike, examining his work while letting the burn build.

"Are you ready to talk, girl?"

Hermione desperately nodded her head. All thoughts of what they might do to her fled as she simply wanted the rain of pain to stop. Damon stepped up in front of her and pulled out her pantie gag.

"Code?"

"Two, four, six, five," Hermione gasped.

Baldy man typed in the number. "It works," he said.

"Anything on there?"

"She said she was taking pictures of the cars," Damon said.

"There are cars, okay. Our cars. And photos of our gear. She's been spying on us all day."

The boss stepped over and took the phone. He whistled. "You've been very busy, young lady, very busy indeed."

Hermione swallowed; fighting back the tears. "If you let me go and delete everything I won't talk to the police."

"That's very kind of you," the boss chuckled

"Very decent." Damon put on a posh accent.

"Whatever happens, this place is compromised," Eric said. "Nosey bitch. This will cost us a fortune."

"What should we do with her," Baldy asked. "She's a nice piece of ass."

"She had until the boss turned it all stripey." Damon laughed.

"I bet the rest of her is pretty tight too," the overall man said.

"I am here, you know." Hermione felt disgusted and humiliated at the way they spoke about her. And anxious about their intentions while trussed up in such a vulnerable position.

"We can't just let her go," Eric murmured as the boss moved closer to Hermione's exposed bottom.

He ran his fingers down the crack of her backside, causing the teen to shiver. She held her breath. Having never been touched in such a manner before, Hermione had no idea how to react. While in such a vulnerable position, she knew should be horrified, but his touch sent tingles through her body-- especially when his fingers moved down between her legs and pressed against the lips of her sex.

"I think she likes it." Baldy man laughed.

"She looks like a dirty little slut."

As the others made lewd comments, the boss worked two fingers inside Hermione's sex. But after invoking initial spears of arousal, he thrust his digits painfully deeper, and finally, she let tears of humiliation drip onto the floor. Horrified at the violation she could do nothing to prevent.

"Not such a slut, it seems." The boss withdrew his fingers. "Get the camera and the laptop, Terry," the boss said to the overall dressed man.

"Eric, Damon, get her off there and strip her. We're going to auction the virgin bitch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think so far and I'll soon be posting the rest.


	6. Strung up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kettlebells have many uses.

Hermione wouldn't give in without a fight. When the two goons had released her, she slipped their grip and bolted again. This time they were quick to react, both men eager to assist the young lady in undressing. Despite her struggles, they soon hauled the jumper up over her head before dragging it down her arms. Next, her bra was violently ripped away, leaving Hermione naked before the gang of drug smuggling muggles.

She tried her best to cover herself from the lascivious gazes, but Damon grabbed her wrists and hauled them above her head. As Terry set up the camera and laptop on the workbench, the boss pulled a chain and hook on a rail over to Hermione.

"Bind her to this."

A rope was once more used on Hermione's already chaffed wrists. Wrapping around them before Damon tied a crude knot. The boss dragged her bound arms upwards until the metal hooked the rope between her wrists. Another chain hanging from a peg near the wall allowed the boss to stretch Hermione until she was on her tiptoes; every part of her body on show.

"Very nice," Eric said and took some photo's using Hermione's phone.

"Stop that, you disgusting pervert," Hermione yelled, kicking out and trying to lift her wrists over the thick metal hook. "You are all stupid troll muggles, and if I had my wand…" Hermione bit her lip, cursing herself for saying such things. But she'd never been so scared, humiliated and outraged in her life.

"Your wand?" the boss said, looking up from his phone. "Are you some sort of witch?"

The goons all laughed as they crowded around the naked teen. Still consumed with fury, Hermione spat at the closest, Terry.

"Why, you little bitch?" The goon stepped forward; his arm raised.

"Steady, now," the boss growled. "We don't want the merchandise damaged." He looked at Damon. "Get her knickers and gag her. The auction will be in an hour, which will give us plenty of time to get packed and ready to roll."

"Just a little tweak of pain, boss?" Terry reached up, cupping Hermione's left breast. To her horror, the boss nodded.

Terry took her cherry red nipple between his thumb and forefinger before giving a mighty squeeze. Hermione squealed. When she opened her mouth, Damon thrust her yellow cotton panties inside, stifling any further complaints.

"Firm and perky," Terry said, giving the whole breast a painful squeeze.

"Nice," Damon agreed. "But I like them bigger myself." He too took advantage, a calloused hand groping the tied up damsel in distress.

Seething with anger, Hermione pulled on her bindings and used the resistance to kick out at both the gross muggles molesting her. She caught Terry in the groin and Damon on the thighs.

"Why, you little bitch," Terry went for her again, but this time Damon held him back.

"Ha, she mugged you both off." Eric laughed from behind them.

"I've got an idea," Baldy said. "Grab her legs."

Damon and Terry took hold of a leg each, preventing their nude victim from causing more damage. From the left side of the barn, Baldy emerged carrying two rusted kettlebells.

"Get the rope." He nodded to the rope on the floor near the bench they'd used to tie Hermione's legs with, and Eric retrieved it.

The other two goons soon understood and knelt, holding stripped Hermione's legs apart. Baldy placed a twenty-kilo kettlebell at each ankle, allowing the men to restrain her further. Hermione struggled and kicked out as much as she could, pulling on the hook to gain momentum. But she was no match for the burly ruffians and soon found her legs restrained by the kettlebells. Her thighs were so far apart; there was nothing about her private areas left to the imagination.

"Try kicking me in the balls now, bitch." Terry pressed his bearded face against hers. She felt his coarse whiskers brushing against her smooth cheeks. His rough fingers then rubbed the exposed entrance of her virgin sex. "I should get to kick you here for what you've done."

"You'll get your share of her sale and buy yourself the whores you deserve," the boss said. "But for now, let's get everything loaded and clean the place down.


	7. Bidding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much is our fair heroine worth?

Hermione couldn't stop the tears flowing during the hour before the auction. As hard as she tried, she couldn't work herself free. The kettlebells stopped her grabbing the hook and lifting herself, and though she felt one ankle become slack, her arms and shoulders burned with fatigue. Eventually, all the crates disappeared, and the goons wiped down the surfaces as Damon and the boss set up one camera on a tripod while Eric filmed close-ups using her phone.

"Streaming this live for a special audience," he said while concentrating the phone on her exposed sex. He followed up by gently rubbing just inside her lips. Tingles or arousal danced over Hermione's skin and her nipples hardened. "Getting warm and moist." Damon laughed, rubbing a little harder. I wonder how many times you'd done this to yourself?"

"Or let the boys do it," Baldy man said.

"Or the girls."

Hermione's face flushed with humiliation and shame as her traitorous body reacted to the stimulation. She might have spent a few nights exploring her pleasure, but she'd certainly never let any boys touch her.

"Nice and ripe for the bidders," the boss said.

"Nice and ripe for us," Baldy man chuckled, and he stepped over to grope a naked breast. "Too small, but firm enough."

Hermione tried to shout more abuse but was stifled by her knicker gag.

"Time to get the show on." The boss nodded to Terry, who turned on the cameras and switched on the stream to allow others to connect. Around a dozen potential bidders connected; all either with fake avatars or no images since they didn't want to be identified other than through private dealings.

"You've already seen images of the merchandise, and here is the sweet young virgin nicely prepared for your pleasure." Terry zoomed in on her sex, which Hermione could see on the laptop screen. She wanted to be sick.

"Let's start the bidding at a thousand dollars."

Bids came in thick and fast, but as it reached thirty thousand most dropped their connections until only one remained, taking his prize at thirty-eight thousand. Hermione couldn't believe someone would bid some much just to have sex with her.

The winning bidder sent a location for the goons to take Hermione.

"We'll have her there in a couple of hours," the boss said. All part of the service."

Flicking closed the laptop; he turned to the others. "Damon, Eric, you take her in the silver van. And make sure she's in one piece and unspoilt because that's nearly eight grand apiece."

Damon whistled, "A tidy sum."

Eric nodded. "Come on then princess, time for you to have a new life as a sex slave."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think that was a fair price?


	8. Hermione has a plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She has a plan.
> 
> But it's a little bit naughty.

Hermione fought with every ounce of energy she had left despite the throbbing in her arms and shoulders where the strain had been on her body. A leg released, she kicked out. When they freed a hand, she clawed at any bare flesh she could find. The goons cursed and yanked her hair, but the boss kept pointing out how she shouldn't be damaged in any way.

In the end, they twisted her around and encased her arms in rope before carrying the stricken teen outside. The doors of a small grey van were open, and inside sat what appeared to be a dog cage. Hermione was tossed inside. Damon hurling in her jumper joking that she might get cold. The back doors were locked before the two goons took their seats in the front.

A wooden board separated her from the ruffians, but Hermione could still hear their words clear enough as she tried to right herself. The van bumped along the farm track, banging her nude teen body against the thin cage wire until they reached the smooth tarmac of the main road.

Hermione forced herself into a sitting position, though she had to cock her head such was the low height of the cage. She took a few moments to calm herself, controlling her breathing through her nose after the efforts of fighting the horrible muggles. After a short while, and when her hammering heart had slowed, Hermione took stock. She was in big trouble; that was straightforward enough. She had no idea where they were taking her, and no wand to help cast any decent spells.

She wondered how late it was. Damon had pocketed her phone, so if her parents reported her missing how long before the police tracked her? But knowing her parents would probably go straight to bed, seemed little chance of anyone knowing she was missing until morning. After all, why on earth would her parents suspect Hermione of sneaking out at night?

The phone could be her possible way out, but how to get it. She thought of one plan, especially knowing what disgusting perverts the two muggles in front were, but dismissed the thought as only a last desperate measure. Testing the bonds, Hermione realised she might be able to wriggle free with enough effort. The rope was wrapped around her arms but not tied off tightly. As the darkness descended and the van drove on, Hermione eventually freed her hands. It wasn't freedom, but a start.

She pulled her panties out of her mouth and wriggled them up her legs and over her hips. Next, she donned the jumper, though getting it over her head and shoulders proved awkward in the confined space of the cage.

Being dressed, however partially, certainly felt better and increased her confidence. Shuffling to the end of the cage, Hermione examined the padlock, vowing to learn how to pick locks if she continued detective work. She could have opened it easily with her wand. But could she do it without if she tried? Hermione took a breath and flicked out her hand. "Alohomora."

Nothing happened.

"You can do this," Hermione said. She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the padlock before she tried again. "Alohomora."

Sure she heard a click, Hermione grabbed the padlock, but it didn't give. She needed more focus.

With her eyes open, Hermione still added the picture of the padlock and imagined it opening. "Alohomora," she said a lot louder. The padlock fell to the floor. Hermione pushed the cage gate. It banged against the back door.

"What are you doing back there?" Eric shouted from the front.

"I'm going to wet myself if we don't stop," Hermione complained.

"I thought we gagged her?" Damon said.

"Probably spat it out in desperation," Eric said. "I could do with one too."

"Let her piss herself."

"And you want to clean it up? And the van will stink."

"Okay, but she'd a bloody wildcat."

"So, I'll be packing," Eric said. "And I wouldn't mind a quick grope on those titties before we give her up."

"Brain on the game dude," Damon growled.

"I know, I know. Go down the next side road. There'll be no one around."

Hermione's hopes increased as she heard the conversation. This time when she ran, she wasn't going to get caught. 

A few minutes later the van turned off onto a rougher sounding road. Hermione had to hang on as the wheels bounced over potholes. When they stopped, and Damon turned the engine off, she couldn't hear any other cars. The sound of the door opening and steps down the side caused Hermione to catch her breath. She prepared herself at the end of the cage. The back door opened.

Hermione thrust the cage gate open; slamming it into Eric. The shock of the blow sent him backwards, allowing Hermione to leap out of the van. A quick scan showed no local houses, but she thought she saw woods on the left.

"No, you don't, missy," Eric shouted.

She was going to run anyway until out of the corner of her eye she saw he held a sawn-off shotgun. Eric pointed it at her head. "You are a very resourceful girl." He almost sounded impressed.

"Please, I'll do anything if you let me go." She put on her most pleading expression. It was down to her last play however disgusting even the thought of it was.

"Anything?" Eric sneered and looked to Damon who had climbed off the floor.

"Anything," Hermione begged. "I'll suck your cocks if you let me go."

"You done it before, virgin girl?" She nodded emphatically. "I swallow and everything." She could hardly believe what she was saying. She only knew from the naughty magazines she caught a fourth former with at Hogwarts. After confiscating them, Hermione, Luna and Ginny had a good look through before handing them to a flustered Professor McGonagall. The pictures having stirred rather pleasant sensations in her body, Hermione had then watched a few videos on the home computer which were supposed to tell a girl how to please her man. It didn't seem too hard.

"So you'll suck us dry provided we take you back home and say nothing?" Eric said.

"Yes," Hermione nodded emphatically.

"You'll have to beg," Damon put in. "Beg us to suck our cocks and swallow our cum."

"Please sirs," Hermione went down on her knees. "Please let me suck your hard cocks and squirt you cum in my mouth. I want to swallow every last drop."

"She sounds like a proper slut," Damon said. "But it sounds good."

"I'm already rock-solid thinking about my cock between those pouty lips."

"Then it sounds like a deal." Damon laughed. "Her lips are all yours."

"And you promise to let me go," Hermione said, wide-eyed.

"Thieves' honour." Eric rested his gun against the side of the van and stepped in front of a knelt Hermione before undoing his belt.

She swept her bushy hair behind her shoulders and lifted her head to see Eric unzip his jeans and pushed them down. "You can free the beast."

Almost feeling as though she was controlling someone else's hands, Hermione reached up to grip the waistband of the goon's blue underpants until his erect cock sprang into view. Her hand shook as she wrapped her slender fingers around his long shaft.

"That's right, work it you bitch." Eric groaned as Hermione ran her hand up and down as she'd seen them do in the magazines. As she pressed forward with her face, Hermione smelt a cheesy stench. She closed her eyes before kissing the end of his cock. Pushing forward until her lips had consumed the bulbous tip, she recalled how men liked their girls to look them in the eye while sucking them off. Hermione also worked Eric's cock with her hand, looked up to see his mouth open as he groaned with pleasure while she ran her tongue over the end of his member. Eric locked his eyes on hers and reached forward, grabbing the hair on the back of her head and thrusting forward with his hips.

Hermione felt his cock slide further into her mouth, tasting sour cheese, making her want to gag. She tried to imagine it as a wonderful ice cream topped with a chocolate flake. Her tongue continued to encircle the shaft filling her mouth. Her body tensed knowing at any moment he would squirt his filthy juices.

She sucked and licked for all she was worth, her head bobbing up and down guided by Eric's firm grip. Desperate to get it over with.

"You have done this before, you little slut." Eric moaned. "Now swallow this."

He gave a powerful hip thrust, and Hermione felt his member throb before hot liquid squirted onto the back of her throat. She tried pulling her head away, but Eric held her firmly in place, so his juices filled her sweet mouth. Hermione struggled to breathe through her nose as she gulped down the slimy, bitter-tasting gloop.

"Now me, girl." As the last morsels or Eric's ejaculation slid down Hermione's throat, Damon stepped into view, turning her head with both hands. Hermione had only just adjusted her position before the goon rammed his cock between her lips. Being thicker than Eric's, Hermione was forced to painfully widened her jaw to accommodate his girth. The nasty goon began thrusting into her mouth, not waiting for the pretty teen to caress or lick his cock. Hermione gagged as the thick tip of his bulbous member slammed against the back of her throat, forcing itself deeper with each thrust while he grabbed her hair with both hands holding her in place.

Forcing herself to endure the horrific ordeal, Hermione clutched the back of his bare thighs. Partly to steady herself, and so she could feel her way down the jeans pooled around his knees. So intent was Damon in abusing Hermione's mouth, he didn't notice her right hand rifling through the pockets of his jeans.

Far quicker than Eric, and much more violently, Damon's cock erupted inside Hermione's mouth. After withdrawing, he held her head in place. "Now swallow every drop as you promised." Her mouth full of disgusting salty slime, Hermione wanted to vomit, but forced herself to allow the gloop to slide down her battered throat. A ray of hope penetrating the horror of the actions she'd just performed.

Damon pulled away.

"Awesome job, bitch." He said. "And now we are going to take you home like we said. Ain't we, Eric?" Hermione saw the wink Damon gave his partner.

"Sure," Eric nodded emphatically. "You better get back in the cage, though. No room elsewhere."

"Okay," Hermione said meekly, head down and arms folded in front of her she stepped to the van doors before climbing in.

As soon as she was in the cage, Damon slammed the door and snapped the padlock shut before closing the van. "See you back home." He said far too cheerily. Damon then muttered to his partner about having a piss.

Hermione's heart hammered. Her breath was shallow as she dared to hope. The van drove off after Damon returned. In a good mood, the goon turned up the radio, singing stupidly to a Little Mix song. Hermione's hopes soared even more at the ideal cover.

From the folds of her jumper, she produced her phone and dialled the police.


	9. A final chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Hermione finally get free.

Hermione didn't bother to point out to the goons they clearly hadn't turned around. She knew they had no intention of taking her home. They wanted both their dicks sucked and their share of the cash for selling Hermione. He hoped they'd be imprisoned for years, wishing she could have them sent to Azkaban and they'd soon see the error of their ways.

She kept herself occupied by imagining all the different animals she'd transfigure them into if she'd had her wand. Or what curse she might put on their puny muggle bodies. While they were thoughts unbecoming of a young lady, it made her feel better.

And it helped drive out the horrible idea she'd be whisked out of the country before the police could trace her. It had taken a while to convince them she was real, and while she didn't know where she had been taken, on her phone she had the van registration, and the police had already picked them up on ANPR. She hoped they'd be able to trace her phone to hone in even more.

But as freedom beckoned, the van turned onto another poorly maintained road.

"You ever flown before, girl," Damon shouted from the front, having turned the radio down.

Hermione didn't have the heart to ask if he included broomsticks.

"No," she replied. "Are we nearly home yet?"

"Well, sort of," Damon laughed. "Your new home."

"You said you'd take me home." Hermione slammed the side of the cage in frustration. She looked at the padlock again. They hadn't even noticed she'd opened it, and if she did it again, then she could at least make another escape attempt.

"The thing you need to learn about bad guys, girl, is we are liars." Eric joined in with his laughter.

"You're bloody mean."

"Watch the language darling," Eric said. "Your new master likes em posh."

"And virgins," Damon added. "Is that the plane? No wonder he can afford nearly forty large for a piece of ass."

"How the other half lives."

"Please don't give me to them," Hermione begged, seriously concerned she'd be spirited out of the country before the police found her. "I'll do anything."

"We've had our fun little lady," Damon said as the van came to a halt. "Now we want our money."

The doors opened, and the two goons stepped out. Hermione panicked. Desperate to see or hear the lights and sirens of a rescue. But there was nothing.

With the two men out of the van, she went over to the padlock. Held it, calmed her mind and concentrated as she had before. "Alhomora." This time the padlock popped open the first time. She wondered what other spells she might be able to do without her wand if she really tried. But without practice, the outcome would be uncertain. Possibly dangerous.

"I will need to inspect the merchandise is as promised first." A man with an Arab accent said to the two goons as they stepped up to the back of the van.

Not learning from the last time, Damon was once against surprised as Hermione slammed the cage door against him, pushing the goon backwards into the dark-suited man with an Arab complexion.

A gap opened and Hermione tried to push through as she half fell from the back of the van. But as before, Eric proved more attentive, grabbing her jumper. The phone clattered to the floor as Hermione lashed out with her arms and legs, hitting anything she hoped might stop the goons. Damon recovered his composure, and with the help of the Arab, they subdued their victim. Hermione found herself with her hands pushed up behind her back so far she screamed at them that they would break her arms.

"We will need to teach this one a lesson or two before she's taken by the master," the Arab said, moving in front of Hermione while the goons controlled her.

She kicked out, but the man caught it pulled her towards him. He pushed her ankle upwards, exposing her yellow panties beneath the jumper.

"Time for your inspection." With her arms bent so painfully and her legs stretched, Hermione was unable to respond as the man pulled her knickers aside and once again she felt rough fingers probing her sex. She grimaced as her lips were parted and the dark-suited man explored her most sacred of places until satisfied as to her virginity.

"Get her on board, and I'll get your money. And grab your rope." The Arab turned and strode to the metal steps which allowed him to climb into the sleek white private jet parked on the end of an airfield Hermione didn't recognise. She assumed it was some backwater place where bad guys did their dirty business. But worse, where there were no police around to help her.

Damon and Eric bundled the struggling and shrieking teen through the door of the Lear jet.

"Tie her to the chair." The Arab man said while checking the contents of a briefcase full of cash. Hermione found herself thrown onto a leather swivel chair and a rope wrapped around her body while her arms were yanked down behind her. Hermione tensed her body as much as she could. Still struggling with the last of her energy and thankfully noted the goons didn't seem bothered about making sure the bonds were tight. After all, they would soon be rid of her.

As soon as they stepped away, she began wriggling her arms free behind her.

She had one last chance.

A distant sound attracted everybody's attention.

"The police!" Damon shouted.

"Get off the plane." The suited man commanded handing Eric the briefcase. "Pilot get us in the air."

"Yes, sir," A voice from the front replied.

"We better get out of here," Eric exclaimed. He and Damon hurried down the steps.

"Are the stairs clear?" the pilot shouted as the engines roared into life.

"Just go, you fool," the suited man replied.

Hermione desperately fought with the bonds. Having kept her body tense the slack to provide her with escape came when she relaxed her muscles. Only the tension of her predicament made it difficult.

She got an arm free as the Arab reached out to pull the door shut.

Hermione hauled her other arm loose. She shrugged off the rope wrapped around her and dived at the Arab just as the plane began to move. Caught by surprise, the suited man let go of the door, allowing it to swing open again as the steps clattered away along the tarmac of the runway.

"You need to get that door closed," the pilot shouted.

Instead, the Arab swung at Hermione, knocking the teen over with a blow to the side of the head. The pane gathered speed, engines roaring and pilot screaming for the door to be shut. Even then they could hear the sirens and the red and blue lights flashed through the aircraft's windows. Clambering onto her knees, Hermione threw herself at the Arabs leg's as he reached out again for the door.

The man stumbled, took a step forward, and found himself tumbling onto the tarmac. The plane thumped and shuddered as the wheels bounced over his body.

"What was that?" the pilot screeched, pulling back on the power.

"Stop the plane," Hermione shouted before scrambling to her feet and running down the aisle to the cockpit.

The pilot looked her up and down. "What happened to Mr Assad?"

"He decided he wanted to stay."

A puzzled expression crossed the pilot's face. "I can't go without him."

"Then we better go back."

"What about the police?" The man looked fearful, but he brought the power right back, so they were at taxiing speed.

"Tell them you knew nothing and are just a pilot." While she had no idea of his full involvement. Hermione just wanted him to stop and go back so she would be free.

To her relief, the man nodded.


	10. Home at last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Hermione can put the horrible night behind her.

By the time the police dropped Hermione off outside her house, the sun's dawn light illuminated her way up the garden path. But since her parents still weren't up, Hermione trotted along the drive and hopped onto the garden wall, feeling the chill against her bare legs.

She'd convinced the friendly policewoman who'd driven her home that they didn't need to speak to her parents as she was okay after her ordeal. Of course, she'd not told them everything that had happened, but enough combined with what the police found themselves to put the goons away for a long time.

The Arab man hadn't survived the fall, and Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about being responsible for his death. But on the other hand, he'd been quite happy to take her to his master, part of her wished he could be interrogated so they could find the boss. But the police said it was unlikely they would find him, and if they did, there was little evidence to bring him to justice.

Hermione hauled herself onto the garage roof before making it to her bedroom window.

All the goons had been rounded up, and their vehicles seized, including the ten kilos of uncut coke from the other van. Damon was already blabbing when the police had handcuffed him and pushed him into the back of a police van. Enough chatter so by the time Hermione was dropped off, word had come through the police had found, and caught red-handed the boss and the other goons transporting the drugs.

The detective in charge was already so confident they had enough evidence to convict the goons without calling on Hermione and putting her in danger.

As she slipped into her bedroom, pulling the window closed behind her, Hermione sat on the bed, her heart still pounding. Staying out of the news and any potential court case was a good thing. Not just because being a witness for bad guys could make her a target for other possible associates, but Hermione didn't want anyone snooping around her muggle life.

After stripping off her clothes, Hermione contemplated trying to get a shower to clean off her filthy body and clean out her mouth. The thought of groping, fingering hands and disgusting cocks made her feel dirty. But not wishing to wake her parents, Hermione instead threw on a clean nightshirt and snuggled under her duvet.

She picked up her copy of Sherlock Holmes stories and flicked through. How would he have handled the night? Certainly not given blow jobs to engineer an escape. But then neither would he be able to call upon magic. As horrific as some events had been, Hermione knew at least five goons would be spending the night in a cold police cell, and lots of drugs were off the street. She'd done an excellent job, and as Hermione settled down to sleep, she wondered what her next adventure might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little tale.
> 
> Please leave a kudos if you did as it helps motivate. 
> 
> And leave a comment. I'm planning on another adventure among the muggles with Ginny and Luna helping her investigate mysterious going on with a group of carnies.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you will enjoy. Please leave Kudos and a comment. It really helps.


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